Amish Turns of Time

Hope in
The Land
Olivia
Newport

A n Impr int of B ar bour P ublishing, Inc.

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 3

2/1/16 3:40 PM

 2016 by Olivia Newport

Print ISBN 978-1-63409-655-3
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-63409-657-7
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-63409-656-0
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or
transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed
reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
either products of the authors imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity
to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover design: Faceout Studio, www.faceoutstudio.com
Published by Shiloh Run Press, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O.
Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.shilohrunpress.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional
value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

Printed in the United States of America.

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 4

2/1/16 3:40 PM

CHAPTER 1

Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, 1936

he steer resisted, but Gloria Grabill had been wresting open the
mouths of livestock for twenty-five years. All she required was
one spot of weakened resistance along the jawline. Her practiced
fingers found it and rubbed the roof of the mouth so the animal
would open wide enough for Gloria to shoot in the capsule of aloin
and ginger. Immediately, she released the capsule gun and clamped
the steers mouth under one arm for the few seconds it took to be
sure the steer did not spit back her efforts. This was a perfectly good
bovine, and Gloria had no intention of sacrificing the meat it would
supply her family because indigestion got out of hand and made the
animal unwilling to feed well enough to gain weight.
Ick.
Gloria released the steer and turned to her youngest daughter.
Youll learn to do that soon enough.
Why? Betsys grimace lingered as she jumped down from her
perch on the pastures wooden fence.
Its a handy skill. You cant run a farm if you cant make a capsule
and give it to an animal. Gloria wiped her hands on the tattered
apron she wore when she handled the animals. The steer inched away
from her.
Polly doesnt know how to do it, Betsy said.
Polly is Polly. Gloria opened the gate and gestured for her
ten-year-old to walk through. Polly shared her mothers dark hair
and slender nose, Glorias gray eyes traded for green, but her mind
had mysterious ways. Gloria had every hope Betsy would learn to do
what she had just witnessed. If she had realized it would be so difficult for Polly to master the task, she would have started teaching her
5

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 5

2/1/16 3:40 PM

OLIVIA NEWPORT
sooner. There was still time. She was not yet betrothed.
They walked toward the house, where preparation for the midday
meal awaited.
I cant wait for school to start next week. Betsys voice lilted at
the prospect.
This year only Betsy and Nancy would be packing their lunch
pails to carry to the one-room schoolhouse. Alice had finished the
eighth grade in the spring and would join her three sisters and two
brothers in the farmwork and housework over the winter. It was also
time for Alice to master the sewing machine and cut out a garment
with more precision. The snowy months ahead would give her plenty
of opportunity.
Theres Daed. Betsy lifted a hand to wave.
Gloria touched her daughters back. Run to the house and check
on dinner. Its time to mix the biscuits.
Ill do it!
Ask for help.
Ill ask Polly.
Yes. No, wait. See if you can find Lena.
Betsy raced ahead, and Gloria paused to await her husband, who
rumbled along the lane beside the fence in one of the familys three
buggies. She never liked it when he visited the Swains.
When he came alongside her, Marlin reined in the horse and
jumped down from the buggy seat to lead the horse on foot. Gloria
raised an eyebrow and fell into step with him.
Theyre coming for dinner, Marlin said.
Who?
Who do you suppose? Ernie and Minerva.
Surely Minerva is preparing a meal of her own.
Shes been occupied all morning, Marlin said. They were just
going to have sandwiches, so I thought they may as well join us for a
real meal.
What about their hands? Gloria pictured her pot of stew and
made mental divisions to stretch it to serve more.
Theyll have to make do with sandwiches.
Gloria let her step slacken to fall a pace behind Marlin and allow
herself a controlled sigh.
Minerva Swain was coming to dinner.
6

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 6

2/1/16 3:40 PM

HOPE in THE LAND

The back door creaked on the hinges Ernie had been threatening to
change for at least four years. In the front room, Minerva closed the
latest mail-order catalog and slid it under a sofa cushion. She reached
the kitchen just as Ernie opened the faucet on the sink.
Minerva moved to the icebox. I had in mind ham for the
sandwiches.
You can set out the sandwiches for Jonesy and Collins, Ernie
said.
Minervas brows crept toward each other. Arent you hungry?
Starved.
Ernie had rolled up his shirtsleeves and was scrubbing his arms
all the way up to the elbows. Minervas stomach sank.
Were going to the Grabills for lunch. Ernie flashed a grin.
Did you invite yourself again?
It was Marlins idea this time.
Minerva blew out her breath. The two of you always concoct
something when you get together.
Hes a good man. I enjoy his friendship.
Minerva had nothing against Marlin Grabill except that he was
married to Gloria. Shed had nothing in common with Gloria for the
last forty years and did not expect to discover common interests in
the next forty years. Of all the men on the neighboring farms whom
Ernie could befriend, why had he chosen Glorias husband?
Wheres Rose? Ernie asked, reaching for a towel to dry his
hands.
Out with her friends. Minerva removed ham from the icebox
and laid out sliced bread. The farmhands still needed their lunch.
Too bad, Ernie said. I think she rather enjoys the Grabill
girls.
There are so many of them.
Thats part of the fun.
They havent even been to high school. Minerva slapped four
sandwiches together and put a bite of ham in her mouth. The sandwiches were nothing fancy, but she would rather stay home and
nibble ham and bread than sit at the Grabill table.
Relax, Minerva, Ernie said. Its just lunch.
She stiffened, hating it when Ernie told her to relax. The sandwiches
7

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 7

2/1/16 3:40 PM

OLIVIA NEWPORT
obscured the tin plate, and Minerva filled two clean milk bottles with
water. If Ernie had come in from the field, his two hands would not
be far behind. She covered the sandwiches with a fresh towel and
carried them to the makeshift back porch table, created by two wide
planks balanced on half barrels, before inhaling a muttering breath
and returning to the kitchen.
We should go, Ernie said.
I have to get dressed. Minerva pushed past him and crossed the
kitchen.
Whats wrong with what youre wearing?
Minerva glanced at the everyday cotton print dress and kept
walking. Its ordinary.
This is an ordinary day and an ordinary lunch.
Minerva rolled her eyes and continued into the bedroom. After
a quarter of a century together, he still did not grasp that she would
not leave the farm in a common day dress.

Polly winced and made a grab for the red hen. Is this the right one?
The hen squawked and flapped out of reach.
Seventeen-year-old Sylvia finished pulling a hand rake through a
layer of chicken litter. You cant let her use her wings.
Polly knew that. Her mother had been saying the same thing
since Polly was six. It was ridiculous that she still tried to pick up a
chicken from underneath and leave its wings free to protest.
Sylvia abandoned the litter collection and moved toward the hen
on the floor of the poultry house. We still need to check her feet.
While Polly scratched the side of her face, Sylvia swooped
toward the red hen, swiftly confined its wings, and tucked the bird
between her rib and arm. Sylvia used a couple of fingers to still the
feet and get a good look.
Shes just dirty. Freed once again, the hen flew up to the highest
roosting bar.
This had been the only poultry shed when Polly was little. When
she was ten, her mother had pushed out one wall and enlarged the
shed. Two years later, Pollys father and brothers erected a second
shed larger than the first, and three years after that added a third.
Now the Grabills had four interconnecting sheds that opened onto a
common yard where the chickens could peck at the ground in search
8

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 8

2/1/16 3:40 PM

HOPE in THE LAND

of cracked corn and kitchen scraps.
How many hinkel do you suppose we have now? Sylvia asked.
Pollys calculation was swift. Two hundred and sixteen. She did
not count the three chickens she was fairly certain were destined for
the Grabill supper table later in the day.
I dont know how you do that. Sylvia mixed some clean straw
into the litter beneath the roosting bars.
I dont know how you remember which one needs to have her
feet checked, Polly said.
The numbers involved in keeping poultry never challenged Polly.
It was the chickens themselves that stymied her. Her mother insisted
her daughters check the eyes and feet of the chickens and inspect for
lice on a regular basis. But to Polly a chicken was a chicken. Sylvia
and Alice were the ones who could tell them apart. Like any farmers
wife, her mother had begun keeping chickens for the eggs and meat
that fed a growing family. First there had been eight children, two
sons and six daughters. Cousin Lillian had arrived when Betsy was
small, and then the two daughters-in-law, and then two grandsons.
By then a bit of egg money on the side had become a thriving business that brought in needed cash.
The coops wire mesh door opened, and Polly and Sylvia both
rotated toward the arrival.
Lena leaned in. Dinner is almost ready. You might want to start
washing up.
Im famished. Sylvia darted out of the coop.
Lena cocked a head at Polly. Everything all right?
Polly shrugged. As all right as it ever is.
Dinner will help. Then maybe youll have a breather.
Polly nodded.
Barely a year younger, Lena was the sister who knew Polly best.
At twenty and nineteen, and of marriageable age, they still slept in
the same double bed they had shared through their childhoods. Polly
had always assumed she would be the first Grabill sister to marry.
Now she was not so sure.
Lena held the coop door open. Coming?
In a minute.

Henry Edison kicked at the tire on the old automobile.

9

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 9

2/1/16 3:40 PM

OLIVIA NEWPORT
Immediately he retracted his foot. The tire was not at faultfor
now. Attacking it in frustration might only cause one more thing
to go wrong. Even in the middle of a severe economic depression,
Henry did not know anyone who drove a car as old as his. Sometimes it seemed as if he spent half his time on the side of the road
trying to coax the ancient Ford into motion again. Success generally
resulted from a mixture of guesswork and vague memories that hed
heard that sound or seen that color of smoke before.
Henry opened the hood and assessed his risk for getting burned
or zapped if he touched anything. He couldnt afford to keep this car
running. He also couldnt do his job without it.
If he could have found any other job, he wouldnt be doing this
one, and he wouldnt be stuck on the side of a forsaken farm road in
Lancaster County. The truth was that Henry was not doing this job
eithernot yet. He was on the payroll, and hed been through two
weeks of intense instruction on how to conduct interviews and keep
his records organized, but he had yet to begin gathering data.
When Henry began attending college courses, he expected to
finish four years later and launch into business. Weeks after his first
lecture, the stock market crashed. Only by half starving himself and
working three insufficient part-time jobs had he managed to hold his
degree in his hands after seven years. Even once he graduated in the
spring, he worked Saturdays at a drugstore fountain where people
were more likely to drool over the potentialities than to actually order
anything. The pay barely covered the rent for one room in a boardinghouse, while debts for everything else piled up. Finally the owner
decided he couldnt afford to keep Henry on at all. Twenty million
people were on relief, and college degree or not, Henry became one
of them.
Henry ruled out radiator trouble. He had put enough water in
before leaving Philadelphia, barely sixty-five miles away. A loose connection? He peered at the possibilities.
A woman had held this job before Henry, which did not speak
well for its worth, and the wage was barely above subsistence. But it
was a government job, and surely that would mean something eventually. The Depression could not last forever.
If the engine trouble was anything serious, Henry would be in
trouble until his first pay caught up with him. Despite four examinations, the coins in his pocket added up to the same sum every time.
10

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 10

2/1/16 3:40 PM

HOPE in THE LAND

And it was lacking every time.
A truck rumbled toward him. Was it better to keep his head over
the engine and look as if he knew what he was doing or to look up
and appear helpless?
Henry leaned in, readjusting connections and tapping major sections of the engine. The truck passed.
Then Henry climbed in behind the wheel. For several long
minutes, he held still and listened to his own breath. He arranged the
levers and pressed the buttonsand the ignition caught! The clatter
the engine made was far from reassuring about its performance, but
the car went into gear and responded to acceleration.
According to the map hed been given, Henry didnt have much
farther to go.

11

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 11

2/1/16 3:40 PM

CHAPTER 2

hy do you have such trouble getting along with Gloria? Ernie

pressed both hands into the trucks steering wheel. Ive never
understood that. Shes always been more than nice to me.
Minerva turned her gaze outside the passenger window. There was
no point in answering Ernies question. She had tried many times over
the years to be polite about it, yet his befuddlement persisted.
If she said she and Gloria simply had nothing in common, Ernie
would point out that they were both farmwives and mothers and
both grew up in Lancaster County and had known each other since
the day they started school together.
If she said they were just too different because Gloria was Amish,
Ernie would say that was one of the reasons he enjoyed Marlin Grabill. It made things interesting.
If she said they had never been close, even when they were in
school together, Ernie would say friendship takes tending.
Minerva was not looking for friendship with Gloria Grabill.
Why couldnt Ernie understand that? The competitions to get the
best marks in school, to win the spelling bees, to take home the needlework ribbon from the county fairnone of that had been friendly
rivalry. Minerva was never so relieved as she was on the final day of
eighth grade because she knew Gloria would not continue on to high
school in town and Minerva would. Freedom tasted sweet.
The tractor is giving me trouble, Ernie said. Im hoping to get
through the fall harvest, but were going to have to do something
before spring.
Youre so good with the machinery, Minerva said. Youll keep
it going for a long time.

12

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 12

2/1/16 3:40 PM

HOPE in THE LAND

Silent, Ernie shook his head as he swung the truck onto Grabill
property. Minervas stomach clenched.
Ernie reached across the bench and covered Minervas hand
with his.
Lunch will be fine, Min. Just relax. Enjoy yourself the way you
used to when we were first married.
She had never enjoyed herself when Gloria was around. Of that
Minerva was certain.
We were poor as could be in those days, she said. Just starting out. Taking a mortgage on an abandoned farm. Thinking of the
future with such hope.
We didnt have much, but we were happy, Ernie said.
That was a long time ago, Minerva said. You had the boys, and
you taught them everything you knew. Now we have a daughter to
consider. Im only thinking of Rose.
Ernie glanced at her, his eyes clouding over, and withdrew his
hand.
Minerva should not have mentioned the boys.
The terrain dipped and the Grabill house came into view. Bushes
grew through the wire fence along the lane, making the place prettier than it deserved to be. The cluster of structures at the end of the
lane marked the heart of the farm: the clapboard house, the old barn,
which was now a stable just for the horses, the new barn, the silo, the
haphazard additions to the poultry area.
The house itself, with the wraparound porch that made Minervas
look shabby, sprawled endlessly, but it would have to with all those
children. Two married sons had homes in far corners of the farm, but
they farmed the land with Marlin and took their midday meals at the
big house.
Two sons who stayed home to farm with their father.
Minerva eyed her husband in her peripheral vision. Nothing
would make his heart happier than if his sons were home to take
their midday meals with children of their own on their knees.
Ernie stopped the truck and turned off the engine.
Do we really have to walk the rest of the way? Minerva made
no effort to disguise her irritation.
Automobiles are not part of their way of life, Ernie said. Its
simple enough to respect that when we come to dinner.
Ernie had left her no room to get out on the passenger side. He
13

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 13

2/1/16 3:40 PM

OLIVIA NEWPORT
got out and held the drivers door open. Minerva slid past the steering wheel and straightened her hat.

Gloria stirred the stew. She had baked an extra dozen biscuits to
make sure no ones stomach would detect the slightly smaller stew
portions. Now she debated adding some water and tomatoes to
stretch the stew. It was too late to think extra potatoes would cook
through. She and Marlin and the maedel were eight. The boys and
their wives raised the number to twelve, and Cousin Lillian brought
it to thirteen. The two kinner, the most delightful grandchildren a
woman could hope for, were young enough to eat off their mothers
plates. Ernie and Minerva made fifteen, and if Rose was with them,
sixteen.
Gloria liked Rose, who had inherited her fathers inquisitive disposition. It was the girls mother who made Gloria whisper prayers
for a more Christian attitude.
Betsy lifted plates and bowls out of the cupboard and arranged
them around the table that ran the length of the kitchen. Years ago
Marlin had enclosed the original back porch, making the space part
of the kitchen to accommodate their growing family, and built on
another porch to hold the butter churns, cabinets of canning supplies,
a table where the girls sometimes played checkers, and a swing. The
side porch, connecting front and back, had come later. At this time of
year, baskets of fresh vegetables awaited attention. The sunny weeks
of summer kept the garden yielding faster than Gloria could find
time to do the canning.
Gloria caught herself just before calling her youngest daughter
by her oldest daughters name. Only yesterday it was Pollys chore to
set the table when she was barely old enough to reach it. Gloria had
to get the dishes off the shelves, but it was Pollys task to distribute
them around the table. Would Gloria turn around again and find all
her daughters off and married and working on their own farms?
Marlins slightly uneven gait stomping up the back porch steps
announced his imminent arrival.
I made sure the boys know to come in soon, he said.
Marlin brushed his beard across the back of her neck as he
passed. He did that whether the room was crowded and he had need
to pass so closely or the two of them were the only ones in the house.
14

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 14

2/1/16 3:40 PM

HOPE in THE LAND

His beard was just scratchy enough to make her bristle involuntarily,
but she would miss the gesture if he ever stopped.
They had six daughters ranging in age from twenty down to ten.
The next decade was sure to bring wedding after wedding. Every one
of the Grabill girls deserved a man as devoted as Marlin.

Marlin moved through the room. As his footfalls faded, a familiar

shuffle alerted Gloria. Lillian.
Did you say something, Mamm? Betsy said.
Gloria put three fingers to her mouth, surprised to learn she had
spoken. The thought was not one meant for Betsys ears. Nothing
important. You did a nice job with the table. Danki.
Youre welcome. Ill go make sure Nancy isnt lost in a book
again.
The shuffle drew closer. Gloria counted downin her head this
time. Four. Three. Two. One.
Cousin Lillian stood in the doorframe, sniffing. How did you
season the stew?
The way I always do. Gloria turned away from the stove to heap
biscuits on platters. Regret seeped in as she saw Lillian remove the
lid on the enormous pot and lower a spoon in for a taste. Refusing
to sigh, Gloria continued with her task. If she had stood guard at the
stove, Lillian would have pinched a biscuit and pronounced a fault
with that portion of the meal. It may as well be the stew she judged.
The bay leaf must not have been mature enough, Lillian said.
Next time. Gloria had discovered months ago that this simple
response, implying she would mend her ways, seemed to satisfy Lillian enough for the conversation to move on.
Lillian was her mothers cousin but only seven years older than
Gloria. One year and seven months of marriage, before a farm accident made her a widow, apparently qualified her as an expert on meal
portions, straw requirements in the barn stalls, planting depth and
spacing for any seed, chicken health, and child discipline.
And any other subject that arose at the family table or in a private conversation Lillian happened to overhear.
Surely Lillian could have married again. She hadnt been much
older than Polly was now when her husband died. Instead, steady
chatter about the virtues of her deceased spouse chased off further
15

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 15

2/1/16 3:40 PM

OLIVIA NEWPORT
prospects. It seemed intentional to Gloria. Lillian was content to
move from one relatives house to another every few years. Pennsylvania, Missouri, Maryland, Ohio, back to Pennsylvania. The last move
brought her to Gloria.
With no departure date.
A wholesome tongue is a tree of life. Gloria mentally repeated the
words from Proverbs three times before meeting Lillians eyes.
I wonder if you would look outside and make sure everyone is
washing up, Gloria said.
Do you really think they need reminding? Lillian twisted her
lips in doubt.
Were having guests, Gloria said. Just to be sure no one lost
track of time.
I suppose.
I could have done that, Betsy said after Lillian left the kitchen.
Remind everybody, that is.
Thank you, Betsy. Quite possibly the youngest of the eight
Grabill children was the sweetest.

Battling the hens left Polly disheveled, and she walked toward the
water pump brushing straw from her dress. Her sisters had just
rinsed off, so the pump was primed and Polly had only to lift and
lower the handle once to create a stream into the bucket below.
Splashing her hands in the cool well water brought instant refreshment, and Polly raised the bucket to tip it over her bare feet.
Her grip slipped before she moved her skirts, and the buckets
contents spilled down the front of her clothing, soaking through
the layers and dampening her knees. Shed missed her dusty feet
altogether.
Are you all right, Polly?
At the commotionand Pollys yelpLena had turned from the
path to the back door.
Just wet. Polly fisted cloth in one hand to wring it. The day was
hot enough that the moisture revived her. It would dry soon enough.
Oh look, Lena said. Yost has Thomas with him.
Pollys head snapped up. Thomas was here, just when she was
dirty and wet.
There he was. Thomas Coblentz, dark blond hair lapping his neck
16

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 16

2/1/16 3:40 PM

HOPE in THE LAND

and blue eyes glinting while he elbowed his childhood friend, Yost,
the eldest of the Grabill offspring.
Yost laughed. Seems that you had quite a mishap, Polly.
Its only water, she said, ambivalent about looking Thomas in
the eye under the circumstances. The bucket wasnt even full.
Her eyes finally settled on Thomas. It was only water. But
Thomas held back a smile, and Polly was unsure how to interpret his
expression. In an instant her ability to excuse her own clumsiness as
inconsequential dissipated, and in its place embarrassment draped
her mood. Polly turned her head to discover Lena had withdrawn
into the house.
Lena would have known what to say to silence Yosts amusement.
Polly could think of nothing but how much she wished Thomas had
not arrived at that moment to find her in that state.
Thomas is staying for dinner, Yost said.
Oh? Polly glanced at Thomas.
Thomas nodded. If your mamm will have me.
Of course she will, Yost said. Ill just go tell her youre here.
Yost bounced into the house.
Despite her best intentions, the smile Polly produced for Thomas
was awkward.
What brings you our way? she asked.
Yost asked if I might help in your familys fields. Thomas
hooked one thumb through a suspender strap.
What about your familys fields?
He shrugged. Our farm is much smaller, and I have all those
brothers sharing ownership, and they all have wives. Theyll hardly
notice Im gone.
The ratio of workers to your acreage is certainly favorable. I
would think with your workforce the harvest would go well. Polly
caught herself. Thomas wouldnt be interested in hearing her algebraic calculations. What I mean is. . .Im sure theyll miss you anyway. Youre a wonderful farmer.
Thomas took a step back.

17

TXT_HopeintheLand.indd 17

2/1/16 3:40 PM